South by Midwest
by frijole dear
Summary: Bella moves to Chicago, drawn there for reasons she cannot explain. Once in Chicago, Bella discovers the enigmatic Cullen family. The characters are all adults and all are human.
1. Chapter 1

I was tired of looking at those little ads, the ones that offered services "in case Prince Charming didn't show up" or for "big, sexy singles." They seemed to be everywhere these days, popping up above my inbox when I checked my email constantly. Maybe they had always been there; I just had never really paid them attention before. Maybe they were there to taunt me, to remind me of the one part of me that still hadn't healed.

I clicked the browser closed, sighed, and moved to the window. Snow. Still. I was so sick of the white, the cold, the wind. But that's what you get when you move to Chicago. I pined for Texas, for Austin. I had lived the first 23 years of my life in Texas, frolicking year round in the heat. 40 was freezing in my world; apparently here that was nothing. I honestly have no idea why I left Austin in the first place; as a musician, Austin was a far better choice for me then was Chicago. All I knew was that for the past six months something had compelled me to pick up and move my life up North.

About a month ago, I found myself standing in the Urban Outfitters near my apartment staring at clothes without really seeing them—I was consumed with Chicago. I walked out of the store in a daze, my body carrying me without bothering to clue my conscious mind into where it was taking me. Within an hour, I had worked everything out with the label so that I could write and record up in Chicago. That weekend, I hopped an airplane for Chicago and signed a lease for a darling little studio apartment where the neighbors wouldn't mind me working on my music from home. Through some strange confluence of events, a friend of a friend had been looking for a place and was willing to start subleasing my apartment the next month; my lease was set to expire in six months anyways. Before I had time to think my decision through, I was moving into my apartment in Chicago.

Maybe the part of me that hadn't healed since April a year and a half ago drove me up here. Maybe I was subconsciously seeking healing. Maybe.

I sold almost everything before the move so everything I owned fit neatly in two suitcases, each under 50 pounds. I had even found an airline safe carrying case for my parakeets, Frick and Frack, at Petsmart the week before I left. Within 2 weeks, I had painted the whole apartment, bought furniture from Ikea and put it together. I had even found a car within my budget.

Something was still missing.

Friends. Duh.

I knew no one in Chicago. Hell, I didn't even know anything about Chicago. I could be old fashioned about some things so I had taken out a subscription to the Chicago Tribune in order to educate myself about my new home. I set my laptop on the coffee table and grabbed the paper. I flicked through and landed on the society pages. I normally stuck to political news, from local, national to international—I liked to be informed on what my government was up to. I had already read those before pausing to check my email. So now I read the society pages. I guess I was just eager to learn about my new city. Or avoid making new friends. It's not that I didn't like people. I was just a bit of a loner by nature, perfectly content with my thoughts. Mostly I hated the awkwardness of trying to make new friends; it was like dancing with someone when you weren't quite sure what type of dance you'd be doing yet. Would it be a waltz? A tango? Or what about a polka?

A name caught my attention on the society pages: Cullen. It sounded familiar. I stared at the paper, racking my brain for where I had heard that name before. After a minute, the answer slowly bubbled up from my subconscious: there had been an article in the local news section about some high profile trial and one of the attorney's last name had been Cullen. With that sorted out, I decided to read more about these Cullens.

It turns out that there were a lot of Cullens—7 to be precise, including the attorney. I read through the list of names in a caption under their picture: Carlisle, Esme, Emmett, Rosalie, Jasper, Alice and Edward. Maybe old-fashioned names and big families were in vogue among the elites of Chicago. What did I know? Austin was still holding onto a more hippy vibe; one of my neighbors had been named Rain.

I scanned the faces in the picture. Without reading the blurb, I could neatly pair all but one of them off: Carlisle and Esme who were clearly the oldest, Emmett and Rosalie and lastly Jasper and Alice. My eye fell on the last face in the picture, on the one named Edward. He was the attorney I had read about. And even though I wanted nothing to do a hot shot corporate attorney, I was absolutely and utterly captivated by the man in the picture.

Ridiculous. I was being ridiculous. The Cullens moved in a completely different world then I did and I had never been star-struck. So why should I care about someone I didn't know? Why was I imagining myself in the picture as the 8th Cullen? I snapped the laptop closed again and dressed in a huff, layering up to protect myself against the cold. Supposedly you got used to the cold but I highly doubted I would ever adjust.

I set out to explore my new city, letting my feet be my guide. After about two hours I was frozen to my core. I popped into a nearby bakery to warm up. The place was classy but warm, not just temperature wise—there was something just inviting about it. I splurged on a delicious pastry and a mocha and settled into a comfy arm chair to work on songs for my new album.

As I sat sipping my mocha all I could think about was Edward Cullen. I was going to have to do something about this.


	2. Chapter 2

The next several days passed uneventfully. I visited the bakery several more times; apparently I had found a new hangout. I had arranged to play at a local pizza place—it was one of those hole in the wall places that played live music on Friday nights, perfect for small, intimate sets. As a bonus, if this Friday went well the place was looking to book me as a regular performer.

My old band had done fairly well. We had never made it onto TRL or popular radio stations but we had a loyal fan base. The group began playing together and had released five albums over the past seven years. Our modest success had paid my rent and bought my groceries over the years and even allowed for the occasional shopping trip or weekend in San Marcos. I dated a fellow band mate for the first five years we played together but two years ago we had broken up. Mike and I remained friendly at first but things turned toxic after about a year and half and the band split up. I was in the process of writing music for my first solo album.

Friday evening rolled around and I stood in front of my closet, trying to put an outfit together. I grabbed some cute skinny jeans and threw them on. I grabbed my favorite deep purple satin tank: I liked the way it floated around my body without being super clingy. While I was by no means overweight, I wasn't the most toned either and I just felt more comfortable when clothing didn't cling. As a concession to the cold, I threw on a short sleeved shrug—cable knit and cream-colored—over the tank.

I finished dressing, adding my lucky necklace and ballet flats. I paused as Sia's "Breathe Me" came on my iPod. The song brought back a lot of memories, most extremely emotional.

I had always been extremely uncoordinated. My mom had enrolled me in ballet classes as a child, hoping that I would learn some rhythm or coordination. I had learned neither. My lack of coordination crippled me more than just physically. I was painfully shy all through middle and high school. I transferred schools when we moved following sixth grade; to this day, none of my classmates believes that I went to school there. For the most part they insist that if I went there they would have some memory of me attending the school. Most pull out yearbooks to verify my claim and they are always surprised to actually find my picture there.

Depression set in as I began to shift the focus from myself to those around me. My soul concern throughout high school had been pleasing everyone around me and I left no time for myself. A part of me fervently hoped that if I kept the focus on others my deficiencies would go unnoticed. The depression colored my music and was painfully obvious in hindsight. At the time I insisted to my mom Renee and to everyone around me that I was fine. I'm not sure who I'd been trying to convince more—her or myself.

I had opted not to attend college—it hadn't seemed necessary since the band had already released two albums. We had recorded in our spare time and opted not to tour so that we could finish high school like normal students.

I did manage to make a few friends in high school despite the depression—Jessica and Angela. Jessica had gone to school at A&M, one of Texas' large public universities. During her second year there, the check from our latest album hit my bank account and I called Jess and arranged to come visit. Despite steadily growing success, I couldn't shake the feeling that the band was teetering dangerously on a ledge, seconds from plummeting over. A weekend drinking in College Station sounded like the perfect way to forget my nagging suspicions and simultaneously toast the success of the band.

Jess had been extremely excited when I called with my request; she had been trying to convince me that I would actually enjoy night life ever since starting college.

Thursday afternoon I loaded up my car and headed to College Station for the weekend. The two of us laughed, talked and shopped our way through the afternoon, early evening and into the later part of the evening. When we arrived back at Jessica's apartment, her roommates were there with a large bottle of Grey Goose; apparently Jess had a suitor that lived downstairs and had brought the bottle up as a token of his affection much like a cat would bring a dead bird to its owners. I didn't particularly view a large bottle of alcohol, no matter how expensive, as a token of affection but Jess was thrilled. We broke out the orange juice and began mixing drinks.

I started out with about 80% orange juice and 20% vodka. By the time Jess' suitor and his friends came up to join us, the proportion had flipped completely. I had lost track of time and was beginning to loose feeling in my face. I wanted to forget though. For one night, I didn't want to be insecure. I didn't want to worry about my band falling apart. I didn't want to be boringly dependable Bella. I wanted more.

One of the boys lived in a house nearby and at some point during the night we decided to head over there; they had a sound system and a room for dancing and everyone wanted to dance. We determined who was sober enough to drive and then piled into their cars to make the journey. I ended up in the front seat of an SUV, flirting heavily with the driver.

At the house, we drank, danced and played beer pong. At some point, I found myself in the kitchen with Jess and two men I didn't remember meeting earlier. One of the men left, leaving the other three of us alone in the kitchen.

"I'm going to the bathroom, Bella. Don't go anywhere, kay? I'll be, like, right back. So stay here." I watched Jess wobble her way down the hall, towards the bathroom.

The next thing I remember, I was standing entirely too close to the man Jess had left me alone with. There was no sign of Jess, or anyone.

"Hey, do you have any roommates?" I stared at him, puzzled; was he asking what I think he was really asking?

"Um, I don't actually live here. I don't want to have sex, though. I'm not that kind of girl. More importantly, I have a boyfriend." He smirked at me and grabbed my elbow.

"Let's go outside." Outside? Why? There wasn't anyone else in the kitchen so it wasn't like it was too crowded. It wasn't hot or cold or noisy. Actually, I couldn't really tell if it was hot or cold. I couldn't feel much of anything. He grabbed my elbow and walked me towards the door. I tried desperately to remember his name; had he even told me?

We didn't stop at the front porch, like I thought we would. We walked down the steps, across the yard, across a small alley and to the side of a car. He opened the back door, lifted me up and set me on the backseat of his car. James. His name was James.

James moved around to the back of the SUV, popped the trunk and rooted around for a few minutes. I wondered why I was sitting in the backseat if we were going somewhere.

"Damn. We'll have to go to the store. Come on, now, into the front seat." I sat motionless on the backseat; James moved me from the backseat to the front. I still couldn't understand why we were going to the store. I tried mightily, or so I thought, to ask him why we were going to the store but for some reason all I could do was sit silently.

We pulled into a gas station and James hopped out of the car and ran into the store. I sat exactly as he had placed me. Reality began to seep through the haze: James was going to buy condoms and he planned to ignore my earlier no sex statement. Shit. I could see a pay phone across the lot; all I had to do was get out of the car and go to the phone. I would call the police. I knew I was drunk and underage but getting a ticket for that was better than the alternative. All I had to do was get out of the car.

I didn't move. I screamed at myself to get out of the car.

_Damn it, Bella, this is your one shot to get out of this. Get out of the car. _

Nothing. My body responded in no way.

_Start small. Unbuckle the fucking seatbelt Swan. _

Nothing. Not even a finger twitched.

_DO IT NOW!_

Too late. James was back at the car, brown bag in hand. It was too late; I had blown my shot and now…now…

I remember the emotions that coursed through me for the rest of the evening better than I remember the actual events.

I did my best to block out the drive; I imagine that the way I felt on the way to his apartment was the way that convicts felt when walking to their executions.

When we finally got there, James steered me out of the car and up the stairs into his apartment. He didn't have a roommate. Our brief tour ended in the bedroom.

"Take your clothes off." For some reason, my body responded then. I began removing clothing. When I had everything but my panties off, I stopped, suddenly very alarmed about what was occurring. It was like I had just snapped back to reality: I was scared and suddenly realized I was taking my clothes off in some stranger's apartment. I had no idea where I was.

James chuckled. "Honey you're going to have to lose those too." In one smooth move he had my panties off and me on my back on the bed.

I have little memory of the next part. Maybe I blacked out again. Maybe my subconscious blocked it out to protect me. I don't know.

I remember vividly the next morning. I was trapped in between James and the wall and still couldn't find my clothing. I was still drunk.

"Good, you're awake. I need to get you out of here—I have somewhere to be at noon and I'd really like a nap before then." He rolled out of bed and sauntered into the bathroom. I dressed, utterly numb. I realized as I was dressing that I had left my purse in the car of the guy who had driven me to the house earlier the night before. I had no phone. No wallet. Nothing. I had nothing but the clothes on my back. I was God only knows where with nothing but the clothes on my back. And a stranger had just…he had just…I couldn't finish the sentence, couldn't think _that_ word.

James dumped me unceremoniously on Jess' doorstep. I immediately showered, turning the water as scalding as I could make it. After a few phone calls, we met up with the guy that had my purse and his friend. Nothing was missing in my purse. Jess bought me Starbucks on the way back to her place. The barista gave me a hug; apparently the pain was etched visibly on my face. I spent the rest of the day alternating between sobbing, throwing up and passing out. When I was well enough to drive, I left College Station and returned to Austin. I wanted a shower. I wanted to be alone. I wanted to curl up in a ball in a corner. I wanted to die.

I had to pull over several times on the drive back to Austin. I had never felt so utterly worthless, used, abused. I felt dirty. I could feel the weight of a giant sign slowly crushing me. The sign stated that I was only an object for his pleasure, that I meant nothing, was worth nothing. I was expendable. I was a faceless doll. I wasn't human. I was something far less than that.

The alarm on my phone went off and I snapped back to reality. I realized I was standing in the doorway of my closet, leaning against the frames. I swiped the tears from my eyes, pushed the memory aside and moved to silence my alarm.

I worked to pull myself together as I got dressed. I had my first performance in Chicago tonight. James would not steal that from me too.


	3. Chapter 3

I managed to arrive at the pizza joint, Tena's, early enough to socialize with my new band for a while before our set. I had met them earlier in the week and we had gotten along wonderfully. I greatly enjoyed their company and was excited to play with them again.

We hopped up on stage around 10 and began playing. When I perform, I let my alter ego take over at least partially. The very first time the old band performed had been horrific. I was so nervous and embarrassed that I think I surpassed just blushing. In fact, I'm 98% certain I turned purple at some point during the performance. The whole first song I stammered and stuttered, unable to spit out the lyrics. After the performance, an older musician suggested that I create an alter ego for myself when I performed. I put his advice to good use from that moment forward.

The first few songs in the set went smoothly. The crowd seemed to be enjoying our music, especially the songs I had written for my solo album. We had agreed earlier in the week to play some covers and add songs of our own as we developed them. In between song three and four, my eyes swept the crowd as the band jammed behind me. We did the whole introduction thing: this is Paul on bass, etc. During my sweep of the crowd, I noticed a familiar face. I skipped over it at first, recognizing the face as familiar without truly placing it.

Then I did a double take. It was Edward Cullen. I closed my eyes, counted to ten and reopened them. The table where he was sitting was empty. I glanced at the door; he was leaving.

I missed my cue to start singing the next song as I stared in dumbfounded shock at the door. I pulled myself together and let Bryn, my alter ego, take over completely.

War raged inside of me in the cab on the way home. The sensible, rational part of my mind insisted loudly that it had not been Edward but instead someone who looked similar. I had simply had him on my mind so much lately that I mistook the stranger for him. A quieter voice whispered that it had been Edward. I leaned my head against the window and watched the city lights roll by.

Saturday morning I looked out my window to see snow softly falling. Ugh. I decided that the cold would have to be confronted head on if I was going to adjust to life here.

I drank two cups of coffee while I turned my dream from the night before over in my head. At first, the dream had been scarily realistic: I was onstage at Tena's again, I spotted Edward in the crowd, blinked and when I opened my eyes he was leaving. I leapt off the stage and ran after him but it was like swimming through a sea of people. The few people that were actually present multiplied until there were ten clones of each person present. Then their clones began multiplying also. I screamed after Edward but he kept walking. I couldn't push my way through the crowd and was beginning to feel like I was drowning in it. When I woke up I was still fighting my way through the crowd.

After finishing my coffee, I debated showering but decided against it. I had showered the night before, right before crawling into bed and it was simply too cold to shower. I dressed simply but warmly, throwing on jeans, boots and a royal blue v-neck sweater. I tended to favor jewel tones—they complemented my pale skin, dark hair and dark eyes. I grabbed a small tote bag and threw my laptop, wallet, cell phone, keys and some lip gloss in the bag. I threw on a jacket, scarves and gloves and headed to the bakery to get some writing done.

"Morning Bella!! The usual today?" Emily greeted me when I arrived at the bakery. I genuinely liked her—she was warm and friendly and had learned my order within a few visits. I always had one of their flavored coffees—Pumpkin pie—and a bagel. I wasn't sure how they made the coffee itself taste like pumpkin pie but I did know that I thoroughly enjoyed it.

"Here's the coffee, Bella. I'll throw that bagel in the toaster for you and have it ready in just a second. Soy milk's over on the bar, as always." Emily smiled and handed me a mug filled with coffee and turned to slice my asiago cheese bagel and toast it. I stumbled slightly as I turned towards the bar with my coffee. I swore softly, raising my hand to my mouth to lick the hot spill off of the back of my hand. Fixated on the coffee drip, I nearly walked into the man standing next to me.

"Careful, there. You might end up with coffee on more then just your hands if you don't pay attention." Edward Cullen caught my shoulders, stopping me in my tracks and effectively warding off the impending collision. I tried to slow my heart, noting that he had left his hands on my shoulders far longer then necessary. I gathered all of the self-confidence I'd spent the past year and a half building and flashed him the best smile I could.

"Coordination clearly isn't my thing. Especially when I haven't had any coffee yet. This stuff is addicting and I'm afraid it often takes precedence above all else in my life." Great. I was making bad jokes and lying about my caffeine consumption.

I breathed a sigh of relief when Edward laughed. He removed his hands from my shoulders and held the right one out to me.

"I am sorry I interrupted your romantic moment with your coffee. Edward Cullen, by the way." He smiled at me—the most beautiful crooked smile I had ever seen. It teased across his features, reaching his eyes. Heat curled through my belly at the sight of that smile and those mischievous green eyes. I had to fight the overwhelming desire to run my hands through his tousled bronze hair.

"Bella Swan." I stuck my hand into his. Again, I didn't miss the way the handshake lasted. Nor did I miss the way his fingertips trailed softly over the back of my hand.

"Well Ms. Swan, I do hate to be rude but my family is expecting me and I don't want to keep them waiting too much longer then I already have. Try not to enjoy that coffee too much." He smiled at me and I was speechless. Edward turned and walked gracefully towards the door.

Five steps from the door, he turned and closed the distance between us again.

"Let me buy you lunch. Would Wednesday work for you?"

"Um…I…well…Yes. Wednesday would be great." The words tumbled out of me faster then I could control. I could only smile at him; the whole thing was just too surreal. There absolutely had to be a catch.

"Wonderful. Where would you like to eat?"

I didn't respond right away. Instead I stood staring blankly at him.

"Bella?"

"Sorry. I'm trying to think. I just moved here from Texas so I don't really know any restaurants in town."

"In that case it's only fitting that you get a true taste of Chicago. The original Pizzeria Uno it is then. I look forward to seeing you there at noon." Edward turned and left the bakery, moving with such grace that it made me jealous.

_Holy shit. I have a date with Edward Cullen._

"I hate to be a pain, Emily, but can I actually get this to go? And the bagel, too please." I handed the coffee back to her.

I had a date with Edward Cullen and suddenly I wanted to make snow angels.


	4. Chapter 4

The days leading up to Wednesday made me question whether or not I was bipolar.

Saturday and Sunday I floated happily around on cloud nine. I hadn't given the incident at the bakery more than a surface-level thought. I was afraid to really think about things, honestly. Thinking might expose the cracks in the whole thing, thus revealing it as being a delusion. My romantic, imaginative side sang for joy.

Monday, however, the more realistic side of me finally broke through. I woke up happy again that morning, singing softly while I made the coffee. I even made pancakes for breakfast instead of my usual cereal and milk. The pancakes were cooked—one banana and one strawberry and I was pouring a cup of coffee when the question I had been avoiding skittered across my brain:

_What if he's like James?_

Not possible. That was not possible. I refused to acknowledge that there was a similarity between James and Edward. Refused.

_You don't know this guy. All you know is what you read in the columns. And those basically said he was an ass. _

That part was true: I didn't actually know Edward Cullen. But we were meeting at the restaurant. And I would be careful. I would pay close attention to my food and drink. I wouldn't drink any alcohol. I would get back in my car, by myself, and go home alone.

_He was so damn arrogant at the bakery. I thought you didn't want to be pushed around again._

Okay, true. I didn't want to be pushed over and walked on; I'd spent the first nineteen years of my life as a doormat and I was not ready to go back to that. It was only in recent years that I had stood up.

My rational side was winning this argument. I had no reason to trust Edward Cullen. I had no reason to show up at this dinner on Wednesday. Suddenly I didn't want pancakes anymore.

Tuesday wasn't much better. I was torn, utterly and completely torn. At some point during the day I grabbed my journal and made a list of the pros and cons of going to lunch with Edward.

The list didn't help: the pros and cons were equal. I looked at the list and laughed quietly to myself. No one else I knew would make a list of pros and cons of going to lunch with a guy. But then again, no one else that I knew had been through what I had with James. I had reason to be cautious when it came to men. But was I being too cautious?

I chewed the inside of my lip and finally decided that this was out of my league and I needed to bring in reinforcements in order to make this decision. I picked up the phone and dialed Angela. Angela always thought prior to speaking and I knew she would give me good advice.

We chatted for a minute or two about our lives. I filled her in on Chicago; she filled me in on Austin.

"Ang, I'm having a bit of a dilemma and I desperately need your help. You see, there's this family here that's kind of the equivalent of royalty. I read about them all the time in the paper. The dad is an acclaimed surgeon and I don't know what the mom does. But they have three kids, all of which are grown. The younger ones—Emmett and Alice—are twins. Not identical ones, though. The oldest is…well the oldest is my problem. His name's Edward and Angela he is gorgeous. I met him Saturday and after about 30 seconds worth of conversation he invited me to lunch Wednesday. I don't know whether or not to go. I don't have his number or anything so I can't even call and cancel."

"That names sounds familiar. He's an attorney, right? I think Dad was talking about him the other day. Apparently, he's already partner at this huge firm in Chicago, which is what made Dad so angry. 'Nobody, I repeat nobody, makes partner by the age of 27. Especially at such a prominent firm.'" Angela imitated her dad shouting about Edward and we both giggled.

"Yup. That's the one. I read the same article your dad did I think. He started interning with them before he even started law school and was basically working there by his second year of law school. Once he graduated, he was rapidly promoted. You know he also finished undergrad in three years instead of four? But, what should I do about lunch?"

"I can't tell you what to do. But how do you really feel about him? I mean, really honestly feel in your heart. Being concerned is the natural and safe reaction. You wouldn't have accepted if you didn't want to go and I think that says something. Also, it is just lunch and if you're meeting there you can always be careful and just sort of test the waters. No one said you ever had to see him again after Wednesday afternoon."

We talked for a few more minutes before hanging up. I decided that Angela was right: I was making a mountain out of a molehill with this whole thing. It was just lunch and if nothing else, I'd at least get to try Chicago-style pizza.

I woke up early on Wednesday and paced the apartment, willing the clock to move faster. I checked the time every two minutes. I changed outfits multiple times, suddenly unable to find anything that worked and silently cursing my scanty wardrobe. I settled on a sweater dress and leggings. I checked my hair in the mirror and silently thanked God that my dark brown curls were behaving themselves today. I even applied makeup—something I never did unless I was performing.

11:35 rolled around and I couldn't wait any longer. It only took fifteen minutes to get to the restaurant from my apartment so I arrived ten minutes early. I paused with my hand on the door and took a deep breath before entering. After all, it was just lunch. If I kept telling myself that, eventually I would believe it.

Edward was already there, seated at a booth along the sidewall. It was about in the middle of the row of booths, which was good. Other diners would be able to see us. He looked up when I entered and smiled. I managed to make it to our table without tripping over anything. While no longer as insecure about my lack of coordination, I did not want to fall right now. Not in front of him.

"Hello. I trust the rest of your weekend went well?"

"It did, actually. How was yours?"

Edward rolled his shoulders easily. "It passed." Clearly we weren't Mr. Chatty today.

We paused to order drinks and I swear I saw him grimace when I ordered a Diet Coke. I couldn't figure out why a Diet Coke would be offensive, so I brushed the look off and told myself I was reading too much into things. We decided on a mushroom pizza and placed our order, settling in to wait with our drinks.

"You mentioned that you were new to Chicago. What brings you up here, Bella?"  
"I'm not sure actually. I think I was looking for a chance to really test my wings. I was raised in Austin and I think I wanted to try living somewhere else. What about you? How long have you lived here?"

"I was born and raised here. What is it that you do? Perhaps your career factored into your decision." I wasn't sure how to react to the last part; it had been more of a statement then a question. I gave him the benefit of the doubt, chalking it up to his way of working through my reason for being here. Why that would matter to Edward was beyond me.

"I'm a musician. Speaking of, this may seem completely random, but I played a show on Friday night and I saw someone who looked just like you there. You didn't happen to be at Tena's on Friday night, did you?" His eyes flashed to meet mine and hope seemed to flicker across them. Then those green eyes narrowed and I swear I could see a wall fly up in between us.

"No. I was not. It must have been someone else." I all but physically recoiled from the shortness of his statement.

"Guess I was mistaken then." His tone of voice had been so defensive that it made me question him. If he really hadn't been there then why the defensiveness? Why the acidity? I would have imagined him teasing me about mistaking someone else for him, not attacking me for daring to ask if it had been him or not. But it didn't make any sense for him to lie, either. I took a sip of my Diet Coke. Clearly that topic was off-limits.

Thankfully the waiter appeared with some bread, apologizing for not bringing it any sooner. Edward pushed the basket towards me.

"Ladies first." I selected a piece of bread, took a bit of butter and pushed the basket back towards him. I took a bite of bread and watched him carefully.

The bread seemed to soften him some. His wall remained firmly in place—he ensured that I remained the topic of conversation, peppering me with questions. The pizza came not long after the bread. Time seemed to fly by and the next thing I knew, he was helping me into my truck.

"I enjoyed our lunch, Bella. Perhaps we could do this again next Wednesday, at a different restaurant?" He offered his Blackberry to me and I added my number. We said goodbye and I watched him cross the street to a silver Volvo. I would have pegged him as a BMW or Mercedes driver. Edward Cullen, man of many mysteries.

One detail of the conversation stuck out in my mind and I grabbed my computer when I got home to look something up. I found the firm's website and reviewed their policy regarding pro bono work. I had managed to fire a few questions back, mostly about work—what kind of law he practiced and why. Edward had mentioned that he took some pro bono cases but had brushed it off so quickly that I wondered if it was a requirement of the firm. According to the website it was not. And according to the website, Edward was one of the only attorneys that took pro bono cases. I decided that I would ask him about that, should I hear from him again. Asking would risk another cold shoulder like the one I had gotten when I asked about last Friday night. But if what I saw in his eyes when I asked that question was real, then it was worth the risk.

The week progressed and Friday night rolled around.

I didn't see Edward at Tena's that night.


	5. Chapter 5

**Before we get started with chapter 5, I just wanted to take a moment to stop and thank everyone for reading & reviewing my work. I truly do appreciate it so keep the reviews coming. Bear with me for this next chapter...I'm trying something different and it may flop. I have an idea of how I want this to play out over the rest of the story. Feel free to let me know if you don't like it, though. Enjoy!!

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I pushed the door open to my mother Esme's bakery around 11 on Saturday. As much as I loved my family, the prospect of being constantly teased or fretted over about my relationship status did not excite me and I admit I had been looking for a delay. The bakery provided the perfect solution: I could say that I had stayed a few minutes extra to talk to Emily instead of admitting I had left my apartment late.

I had been insisting to my parents, and my siblings for that matter, that I was fine with being alone. I had a good career that took up most of my time; what else did I need? I dated off and on but I think they knew the truth—that none of those women really held my interest and that I was miserably wallowing in hell. I invariably drove each and every woman away, either intentionally or unintentionally.

I walked up to the bar, taking careful notice of how many customers were there. We had a good crowd that morning. I observed the crowded tables as I headed towards the bar to say hello to Emily. There was one woman at the register and I watched as she paid for her coffee and bagel. She turned towards the bar to retrieve the soymilk Emily had just set on it. As she turned, she nearly walked straight into me after a drop of her coffee—pumpkin pie from the smell of it—dropped from her cup and onto her hand.

My hands shot out to catch her shoulders; the last thing I wanted was to be wearing her morning coffee.

"Careful, there. You might end up with coffee on more then just your hands if you don't pay attention." I smiled at the stranger, sickly enjoying the startled expression on her face. I let my hand linger on her shoulder for longer then necessary; I knew I was deliberately pushing her buttons and that I should play nicer with others but I couldn't seem to help myself.

"Coordination clearly isn't my thing. Especially when I haven't had any coffee yet. This stuff is addicting and I'm afraid it often takes precedence above all else in my life," she replied with a smile. I laughed at her joke, bad as it was, and extended my hand to her. The least I could do after scaring the hell out of this poor woman was introduce myself.

"I am sorry I interrupted your romantic moment with your coffee. Edward Cullen, by the way." I flashed her another smile; I had her hook, line and sinker and if I swung this right, I would have another date to show the family.

_See everyone I can have a relationship, too. I'm normal just like the rest of you. There's nothing wrong with me. _

For some reason, it felt more like I was trying to convince myself of those last two statements. I brushed that off. I was fully aware of my own inadequacies. I also knew that they ran too deep to be corrected. I was beyond hope of repair.

"Bella Swan." She stuck her hand in mine. It felt delicate and I marveled for a second at the overwhelming urge I felt to protect her. I brushed that off too. I couldn't help but let the handshake linger: her pale skin was so soft and I could see my reflection in her eyes almost. I definetly had this one caught. I opened my mouth to invite her to lunch next week and thus settle the hook in permanently.

"Well Ms. Swan, I do hate to be rude but my family is expecting me and I don't want to keep them waiting too much longer then I already have. Try not to enjoy that coffee too much."

_Stupid, stupid, stupid Cullen. You have her so why the hell are you letting her walk away? _

I moved towards the door, torn by an internal war. The arrogant bastard in me was furiously angry: I knew I needed to bring another date by soon. Tanya and I had broken up ages ago and I had not dated since. Esme would begin worrying again if I didn't at least look like I was making an attempt at finding someone. Living with three perfectly matched couples had its drawbacks. I knew they all meant well when they encouraged me to date and simply wanted me to share in what they had. But monsters don't get to find love.

I paused after about five steps as Bella Swan swam into the forefront of my mind. There was something so intriguingly beautiful about the flush that had colored her cheeks, about the way her dark hair and eyes along with that beautiful blue sweater set off her pale skin. She was not toned or tanned, something I typically liked my women to be, but she was nevertheless beautiful in all of her fragility. I closed the distance between us quickly.

"Let me buy you lunch. Would Wednesday work for you?" Apprehension ran through my body and for the first time since middle school, I felt nervous as I waited for her reply, certain of her rejection.

"Um…I…well…" Shit. She was going to say no. I told myself that a rejection from her wouldn't bother me, that she was just intimidated by me. I still felt a part of my heart begin to rip by the possibility that she would reject me. I brushed that aside.

"Yes. Wednesday would be great." I wanted to sing, to dance for joy. She said yes. Beautiful, fragile Bella said yes. From that moment forward, I knew I could not bear to lose this woman. I would do everything in my power to keep her near me.

"Wonderful. Where would you like to eat?"

She didn't respond. Instead, her face clouded. Shit shit shit: she changed her mind. She realized how fucked up I was and was trying to find a way to let me down gently. I was losing her.

"Bella?" _Bella, please don't reject me. I know I have issues, I know that there are better suited men for you but I can't bear it if you reject me. Please, Bella, please._

"Sorry. I'm trying to think. I just moved here from Texas so I don't really know any restaurants in town." I had to stifle a sigh of relief. I had been so certain she had been about to reject me having seen right through my nice-guy charade.

"In that case it's only fitting that you get a true taste of Chicago. The original Pizzeria Uno it is then. I look forward to seeing you there at noon." I turned for the door quickly, before she had a chance to see through me and change her mind.

I exited the bakery into the cold Chicago afternoon, hating myself for pulling such a beautiful angel down into hell for my own selfish comfort.


	6. Chapter 6

I have to confess I was disappointed when Edward didn't show at Tena's Friday night. I had no reason to expect him to show. I had no way to know that he was lying at all about whether or not he had been there the week before. I had no way to really know anything about him at all, given how vague he had been.

I was sitting cross -legged on my sofa, staring out over the city. Chicago was waking up slowly to a beautiful, albeit cold, Saturday morning. I stood from the sofa and walked to the window, resting one hand against the cold glass and staring down onto the people thirty-five stories below my apartment. I felt the urge to head for a walk through the city, to stretch my muscles and breathe outside air.

Within forty-five minutes, I had showered, dressed and made a menu for the week along with a grocery list of all the items I would need. I grabbed my cell phone from the table by the door, along with my keys.

In the elevator I checked my phone, which was showing a missed call and new voice mail. I flipped the phone open to check who had called.

_One missed call from: Edward Cullen_ read my phone's display. I snapped the phone shut instantly, shoving it firmly into my back pocket. It felt like I had been flash fried when the elevator doors opened: his name on my caller ID had triggered a wave of heat throughout my body that very nearly had me sweating. I walked briskly through the lobby and out onto the street, eager to get outside, swallowing several large gulps of air as I stepped into the morning sun.

_He called me back. Edward Cullen actually called me back. _

I couldn't bring myself to listen the voice mail. It had seemed so unlikely that he would call after our lunch on Wednesday that I could only assume he was calling with some excuse for why we couldn't see each other again. I resolved to get my groceries and listen to the voice mail when I got home later.

"Bella?"

I froze in the middle of the sidewalk; I would recognize that voice anywhere. Slowly I spun around to face him.

"Edward! Hello. How are you?"

"I'm doing rather well, actually. I called you earlier this morning."

"Yeah I'm sorry I missed your call; I honestly intended to call back as soon as I got home. I'm on my way to the grocery store now."

"I understand. I had actually called earlier to see if I could interest you in breakfast. Of course if you've already eaten I'm sure we could find something else to do. If you want." He flashed that crooked smile at me again but it seemed somehow timid and sheepish this time. I quickly took mental stock of my pantry and determined that I would be just fine if I didn't make it to the store today.

"I actually already ate this morning. But I would love to maybe grab a cup of coffee or something instead of breakfast." Edward laughed at started walking, motioning for me to come with him. I struggled a bit to keep up, considering that my legs were much shorter than his and I was not blessed with such grace and ease of movement. Edward must have noticed: his stride adjusted to mine easily and we fell into step beside each other. After about a moment, Edward broke the silence.

"Look, I owe you an apology for the other day. I know I wasn't necessarily the most forthcoming. I would love the opportunity to make it up to you." Again, the sheepish smile. I shook my head and mumbled that I wasn't mad. In all honesty, I was shocked at how open he appeared to be today. I decided to play along and see where this took me. We reached the bakery where Edward and I had first met.

"Pumpkin pie coffee with soymilk for you?" _Damn, how did Edward know what my regular drink order was?_ "Perhaps you'd like something else?" His brow furrowed as he waited for my response.

"Sure that sounds great." Edward ordered my coffee and a water for himself. The only open table was in the middle of the bakery and when we reached it, Edward actually held my chair out for me.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you in any way. My mother, Esme, raised my brother and myself to be a bit old-fashioned when it comes to women." I wondered what in my expression would make him think me offended.

"No you didn't offend me at all. If anything, I was pleasantly surprised. What made you think I was offended?"  
"I don't know, it was something in your expression. I can usually read people's body language extremely well, which is part of what makes me so effective in the courtroom. For some reason, I seem to be lost when it comes to you. This is the second time I have misread you completely."  
"Wait, what was the first time?"

"When I asked you to lunch last weekend, something in your face made me completely certain that you were going to turn me down."  
"Seriously? I guess we're both out of our element in a way then. My mom, Renee, always told me that I would make a horrible poker player. I can't lie to save my life and my face has this funny way of showing exactly how I feel. It's like I have no control over my facial muscles." We both laughed and I felt something tug at my heart. In that moment I felt a bond begin to develop between us. My feet began to leave the ground and I decided to let go and let Edward continue sweeping me off my feet. I had been standing on my own for far too long.

"So tell me more about your childhood. You mentioned the other day that your parents are divorced? I wonder what that must be like. My family has always been close and I can't imagine not having siblings or both parents present."

I told him more about living a split childhood, about summers and holidays with Charlie in Washington state and school days in Texas with Renee. Edward continued peppering me with questions as we walked through the city. We ended up spending the whole day together, meandering through the aquarium and the surrounding area. Time seemed to slip away from me when I was with him. I did notice that I remained the topic of conversation throughout the entire day. While his walls were certainly shrinking in size, they were still present and he made it clear that his life was not to be a topic of conversation. As a result, by the time we finished dinner and Edward walked me home, he knew everything about me from how I felt about my parent's divorce to my favorite color. Well, not quite everything: I didn't mention James.

"Lunch at noon on Wednesday still? There's a wonderful sushi restaurant we could try. I could pick you up here around 11:45 if you'd like."

"That sounds lovely." I smiled, and melted a bit further. We were standing on the doorstep to my apartment.  
Edward leaned in, drawing me into his arms. I didn't want him to let go; he smelled incredible. His cologne was woodsy but with a hint of something sweet. He kissed the top of my head and my knees began to weaken. I wondered vaguely what kissing him would be like if he had my knees weak after a hug. Sex would be…I smiled into his jacket at the thought. I was going to have pleasant dreams tonight.

"Goodnight Bella Swan."


	7. Chapter 7

I inhaled the scent of her hair deeply—strawberry—before untangling myself from those soft, warm arms. The smell was intoxicating, just as she was. I fought the temptation to grab her by the hand, drag her up to her apartment and simply devour every inch of her fragile, pale, wonderfully scented skin. I hesitated, irresistibly drawn in to the temptation she presented. I was by no means celibate but I wanted more for Bella than just sex. Any other woman I would have taken upstairs without hesitation. If I was honest with myself, casual sex wasn't about satisfying my physical desires but more so denying my emotional ones. I knew by simply using women, keeping them at arm's length at all times, I was preventing any true relationship from forming. There was a part of me that so deeply wanted a genuine relationship with Bella; that same part caused me to step away from her now. I would put the physical on hold until I was worthy of her. I doubted that day would ever come. In the mean time, it was best to keep this woman at arm's length also; if she never came close, she could never see the monster below the surface.

"Goodnight Bella Swan." I smiled at her again, almost drawn into those warm chocolate eyes once more. I turned and descended the front steps of her apartment complex. I journeyed towards home, filled with her scent.

***

I didn't wear the jacket I had worn that Saturday for several days; it still smelled too strongly of her. Instead I opted for one of the many others I owned, leaving the wonderfully scented jacket on the back of a chair where I trailed my fingertips over it every time I passed.

Sunday afternoon I found myself sitting on the floor at my parents' house, playing chess with Alice. I read her body language, watching her eyes carefully as they darted over the pieces on the board. I had no idea how she did it, but Alice always seemed to know what I was planning. Perhaps this was simply the result of playing together since childhood.

"So Emily said that she saw you with a girl at the bakery the other day." Alice looked pointedly at me, one eyebrow arched. If my younger sister were an animal, she would be a hummingbird. Alice was tiny in every way possible; however, what she lacked in physical size, she more than made up for in personality. Her fashion line included everything from jeans and casual tops to formal evening gowns. I loved her to death, despite the fact that much like a hummingbird, she never seemed to stop moving or talking, flitting from one thing to the next with hardly a pause.

"I don't know if I should be angry at Emily for telling you that or not. Mostly I'm hugely irritated with you for prying again. Emily's a cashier, not your spy." I chided Alice playfully. She had moved her pieces into position and taken out probably half of mine in the process. Alice laughed, a high trilling sound. I concentrated on moving my pieces as I continued talking.

"Yes, I was at the bakery on Saturday with a woman. Her.."  
"A new girl?? You found a new one? What's her name?" My brother Emmett's head snapped up from the game he was playing watching with Alice's husband, Jasper. If Emmett was an animal, he would be a bear, a fitting comparison since he played professional football for the Chicago Bears. While he could be fiercely protective of those he loved, Emmett for the most part was a big cuddly teddy bear. His mental activity never seemed to run deeper than the average bear's, either, which was wonderful since I never had to worry about double meanings or hidden plots with him. Everything Emmett thought he would comfortably say out loud; in fact it was rare that thoughts were censored before they were spoken out loud.

"As I was saying before you cut me off, her name's Bella Swan. I actually met her at the bakery about a week ago. We had lunch last Wednesday and spent the majority of the day together yesterday." I glanced up at Alice's face, surprised at the expression there. It was triumphant, and a bit impish, which was odd considering I had defeated her at chess while answering Emmett's question. Emmett's expression mirrored Alice's. The two exchanged a glance, grins growing wider.

"Tell us more about this new woman, Edward." It was Jasper's turn to speak. I couldn't place an animal with Jasper. Instead I would liken him more to a stream: constantly flowing and adapting and yet tranquil. Jasper seemed to impart calm on everyone who came into his presence, which was good considering his job as a therapist and his marriage to Alice; Alice needed someone to balance out her energy and spirit.

"Bella's a musician and new to Chicago. She actually just moved here from Austin." Jasper smiled fondly; he had been born and raised in Houston. Alice and Jasper met her senior year of high school: he had been a student at the University of Texas and Alice had struck up a conversation with him in a restaurant near campus when we had come to visit the school. They had been inseparable ever since.

The four of us chatted idly about Bella for a while longer; the rest of the family had found a reason to be in the same room with us and were listening intently to our conversation. From the glances they were exchanging, it appeared everyone, including Emmett's girlfriend Rosalie, was in on some secret. I brushed their odd behavior off and changed the subject, asking my father Carlisle about his work at the hospital. Carlisle was an acclaimed heart surgeon and constantly had some pet project for all of us. We were all registered organ, bone marrow and blood donors as a result of Carlisle.

***

Monday morning, my family's secret smiles chewed at the corners of my mind, demanding my attention. I checked iTunes one more time, to see if my downloads had been completed. I had bought every album released by Bella's band and was eager to begin listening to them; I secretly hoped her music would reveal more of the woman within. I was already modestly familiar with her style; I had been at Tena's for her first show there. I had planned to meet Emmett and Rosalie that night but something had come up with Rosalie and they had cancelled after I had arrived. I had no reason to lie to Bella when she asked at lunch whether or not I had been there and yet I had done just that. As soon as the music finished downloading, I began playing the first song off the first album. By the time I left work that evening I had listened to every song she had ever written or sang on.

I stopped by the bakery on my way home that evening; there was no sign of Bella. Emily wasn't working that evening so I couldn't ask her if Bella had been that day or not. I drove home the long way, which conveniently took my by her apartment.

I followed the same route back to work on Tuesday morning, passing first by her apartment and second by the bakery. I left money with Emily to cover Bella's breakfast should she come in that day. I was beginning to feel a bit like a stalker, going out of my way to pass by where she might be. If I was honest with myself, I had deliberately run an errand in Bella's neighborhood Saturday morning; there was a store that sold what I needed closer to my apartment so the trip across town was not necessary. My behavior regarding Bella was completely out of character for me but something compelled me to check in, to pass by in the off chance that she might need my help. Bella Swan just seemed like the type of girl that would need rescuing.


End file.
